Nameless
by Kriiz
Summary: What started as an accident in Roy's childhood escalates into allout war in the present. What will happen to Marth when he gets in the middle of this mess? Mild yaoi flavor, and a shocker of an ending! Read and review FINISHED!
1. Default Chapter

Bah. My first fic! e.e And this chapter is so uninteresting. Severely lacking humor, a few dry plot-hints, and lots of blah. Oh well. Review gently, 'cause I already know how much this chapter sucks. Warning, yaoi flavor ahead.

The chilly autumn evening was one fitting to the mood. The dismal glow of the moon, occasionally marred by a few stray fall leaves, cast a somber light over the dusty city it hung above. Only one person prowled this sleeping asphalt jungle, a person which should have been in bed at such an ungodly hour. Pacing about the rooftops, the trench coat-clad stranger was letting his long white hair flow freely in the brisk wind, his eyes not shown beneath his choppy bangs. His glasses, however, glinted with eerie malice from the shadow of his face.

The strange shadow selected a particular rooftop vantage point, one that gave him a perfect view of the building next-door. It was none other than the Super Smash Brothers complex, recently renovated and turned into the Melee House. Behind those stone walls were several battlefields, several more diverse warriors, and the prowler's single target.

"Ah… There," he snarled, stopping on his rooftop pace to peer into one of the many windows. He was looking on the side of the building that housed the male dormitories. The specific room he was looking for was, of course, the Fire Emblem Boys' room. From his position, the outsider had a perfect view of one of the bunks, and sitting on the bed was none other than the youthful Roy. The fiery-haired warrior was sitting on his bed, cleaning fresh blood from his blade. It was obvious from his still-bleeding cuts that he'd come from a late-night battle.

"My, he hasn't changed a bit." The prowler strained to watch the swordsman. "Still so young and handsome, still with that ridiculous hairstyle. He's keeping the Sword of Seals well, I see…But what's this?" The stranger was intrigued to see another shadow blocking his view (or rather enhancing it, some Marth fangirls would say). "Blue hair, and a … Tiara? Tell me it isn't Prince Marth. That Altean should be cozy in his palace, getting a manicure! He's no warrior. He must be, though, if he's joined this little circus." 

The stranger continued to watch with little interest as the two sword-wielding teens quietly conversed in their room, Marth taking a seat on his comrade's bed. While observing, he continued to talk to himself. "So they were right, Roy _has_ abandoned the principality. But why? I would have done anything to have gained his prestigious position, even kill." The shadow clenched his one good fist. "If I still could with a blade… Then I would be the one holding the Sword of Seals. I would be the one wearing that bandanna. I wouldn't be the one standing out here in the cold!"

Taking a pause before his second rant, the prowler felt his breath catch in his throat as he began to really see what was going on behind that windowpane. Unless his eyes were deceiving him, he was observing nothing short of yaoi! One strong warrior atop the other, the pair of swordsmen was rolling around atop the bed sheets, helplessly tangled up in one another. He thought they were just playfully wrestling (like that'd make it any less perverse), that is until he saw clothing flying. 

"My gods!" he exclaimed, reeling back as he lifted a hand to his bleeding nose. Teetering first backwards, then frontward, stealthy prowler didn't catch himself in time to prevent the fall he took. His flight landed abruptly; he was rudely introduced to the alley below with a clatter of trashcans. A shaking fist was raised from one of the dumpsters. "Nnh, I'll get you for this, Roy!" Hauling himself out of the trash, prowler yipped as he held his now gushing nostrils. "For everything you've done to me!!" And, leaving a trail of blood behind him, the shadow hobbled quickly down the sidewalk.

Kiss was broken with Roy's alarmed murmur. "Wait. Did you hear something?" "Hear what?" The blue-haired Altean prince seemed only half interested in conversation as he looked down into his lover's eyes. Trembling hands were at Roy's hips, and his belt was swiftly being undone. "Don't think about it, don't worry about it, I'm sure it was nothing, whatever it was…" Words were rushed, as Marth was eager to get into the deed he'd initiated.

"I don't know, Marth. I really think someone's out there," Roy whispered as he tried to sit up. He was trying in vain, however, and was gently forced back down. The older boy smiled. "I'm sure it's nothing. Just relax, you've had a hard night." Roy opened his mouth to argue, but his words were muffled with a forced kiss.

Neither boy could imagine the nightmare that would await them in the days to come.

My. o.o Was it really all that painful? Review if you feel so inclined. I promise, chapter two will be 284327934 times better. ;.; Really!


	2. Chapter 2

Woah. e.e This will probably be the only time you'll ever get two chapters in one day. n.n; I just got so many nice reviews that I couldn't help but put up the second one so soon! Thank you people! See, it's getting a little better!! Mild cursing, that's all.

A bright, cheerful sun had replaced the somber white moon as the stage crew changed the set for the next chapter. The building-confined sky was a gray-blue shade, mostly because of the smog, and the city-people below were cheerfully milling about their business. Just ignore the taxi driver cursing in Arabian. Yeah.

Directly reflecting the cheerful day outside, Prince Marth strode valiantly through the Melee House halls, boots clunking to announce his presence. He seemed awfully happy this morning, humming on his stroll and having that telltale afterglow in his cheeks. It was a very different story for his partner, who was staying in bed that day to nurse a sore derriere.

"Well, good morning!" the Altean cheerfully chirped to a kitchen full of sleepy warriors. As he pranced across the room, several sets of bloodshot eyes met him, and sleepy grunts were given in return. Perhaps the only one who wasn't so sleepy this morning was the blissfully blonde Princess Peach, but then again, she's always so unnaturally happy.

As the prince passed by one end of the long kitchen table, humming away, Link couldn't help but shrink from Marth's presence. The poor blonde never knew what to do around the ostentatious personage, especially since he was so open about his sexual orientation. Hey, who could blame Link for being so paranoid? I would be, too, if I was a guy who pranced around in tights. Link's partner, the beautiful Hylian princess who was normally so accepting and so reserved, shot daggers from her eyes at the passing Marth. She felt a bit possessive of Link when Marth was around. Half the reason was Link's obvious discomfort, but the other half was the fact that Marth was probably prettier than she was.

Those were probably the only two who felt uncomfortable around the feminine prince (with all due respect, fangirls). Most of the House had inferred from their attitudes that there was something more than "brotherhood" between Marth and Roy. Those who didn't accept the fact that Marth and Roy were a "couple" were blissfully unaware that anything was going on between the two. This was the case for most of the younger warriors, who were actually very fond of Marth. The kindhearted prince was one of the few who didn't ignore the younger generation. He'd even get things off the high shelves for them so Nana and Popo wouldn't have to constantly scale the cupboards.

Basically, the House was pretty harmonious… Well. For now.

Mr. Nintendo, normally such a strong, unifying force in the House, seemed unusually distraught this morning. Heading towards the kitchen, Mario had his hat in one hand, the other scratching his head. He was preoccupied with something, so much so that he made his entrance into the kitchen by tripping over Pichu. The rat's ear-splitting screech drew the attention of the other Smashers, who craned their necks to see what was wrong. Mario picked himself up off the floor, straightening his suspenders, and picked Pichu up, dusting off his yellow fur. "I'm-a sorry, Pichu. I didn't see you. I have a lot-a on my mind…" Once he was sure the creature wasn't going to burst into tears – as usual – Mario took his seat at the head of the table.

"You're lookin' a little pale today, plumber," Falco scoffed from behind his newspaper. He was one of the few who was awake; he was just naturally caustic and grumpy. "You sick, or y' lose your plunger to th' toilet again?" "No, that's-a not it," he sighed, smoothing his hair back with one hand before putting his hat on again. "I don't-a want to scare any of you, but we had a prowler last night-a." A few of the Smashers did seem alarmed, though I don't know why. They're fine-tuned killing machines, what do they have to fear?

"Now before any of you get upset-a, I'll tell you not to worry." His blue-eyed glance was directed toward the whimpering Captain Falcon, who sat hugging himself over his Alpha-Bits Cereal. "I'll-a put the House on lockdown for a night or two, and if the prowler doesn't come back again, then I'm sure we'll all be okay-a." He calmly gave each of the warriors a reassuring gaze, secretly numbering them in his head, making sure they were all still there. "Where's-a Roy?" Marth's knife slipped and landed in his lap, a smear of grape jelly getting on his pants. "Aww, damn it… He's not feeling well today, Mario. He's in bed." "Well I want-a you to stay there with him. No one goes anywhere alone until we're sure it's all safe." 

The red-shirted plumber stood and exited the kitchen again, leaving the room in an awed silence. None of them had ever seen him so serious and upset before. Falco just grunted, turning a page of his newspaper. "Sure got his shorts in a knot, don't he? I'm sure it's nothin' we can't handle, right?" Seeing their fearless leader so troubled made the rest of the Smashers uneasy, and they answered him with a single, monotone murmur.

--

Having gotten little sleep last night, Roy lay facedown on his bunk, covers only pulled to his hips as he soundly slept. His clothes were still scattered about the room, a pair of flame-patterned boxers hanging from the light fixture, a stray bandanna on the bedpost. All this, including the bare-backed teen, was surveyed through cool, green eyes, as our mysterious prowler made his second debut. 

"Ahh, sleeping like a child," he crooned, stepping right out of the shadows. Now with toilet paper jammed up his nose, the stranger quietly approached Roy's bedside. Lips twisted into an unnatural, unholy grin as he studied his quarry. Everything he wanted was at his fingertips: the deadly Sword of Seals, the vulnerable, nude form of the son of the Principality, the possibility that Roy's reign could end right now with one simple flick of the wrist.

Lucky for us Roy fangirls, this isn't the villain's style.

Rather, he leaned down, softly whispering, "Though you are my target, dear boy, you're not the one I'm currently after." Cold lips left a soft kiss on Roy's cheek, and when the youth opened his lavender oculars, the stranger was gone. He sleepily lifted his head, looking around the room, and lifted one gloved hand to his cheek. 

"Mmh… Got a chill," he murmured. Shrugging it off, Roy turned his head to face the wall, drifting back into his beauty sleep.

There we go, Chapter Two. :D Yay, see? It's not all that bad. A long'un, ain't it? n.n Feel free to review!

(Oh, and don't hurt me if you feel I'm interpreting any characters wrong. o.o Hey, maybe Captain Falcon eats Wheaties, I'onno…)


	3. Chapter 3

I guess I write when I'm frustrated. o.o And I'm very frustrated today. I'm not going to get all livejournal on fanfic.net, though. e.e So do not fear. Just know that three chapters in two days is very unusual. :/ What can I say? I create quickly.

Even after breakfast, Marth was still just as sickeningly happy as before. Prancing down the hallway toward the male dorms, he was toting along a glass of orange juice and a cereal bar for Roy. "_Can't let him starve in there!_" he reasoned, merrily bouncing along. (A/N: Trust me, Marthy's giddiness won't last. Not only is Marth a reflection of my mood swings, but he just got some ass, man! :/ I'd be happy too if I was him, but thank God I'm not.)

Turning the corner and heading into the males' dorm hall, Marth apparently overshot his mark as he skipped along, and the Altean slammed face-first into the wall. Tears welling in those big blue eyes, the glass and cereal bar slid out of his hands as he stood frozen for a second. However, once he overcame the shock, Marth swiftly lifted his gloved hands to his nose. "Gods, my face, my perfect complexion! Jebus, did that hurt… Ice!! I need ice before it bruises!"

The prince stopped in mid-whimper as he caught sight of the form that stood in front of him. Though he was no wall, our dark shadow-person was just as solid as one. The prowler towered over the Altean, sadistically grinning down upon him. "Prince Mars, or is it Marth now?" Marth took a surprised step back, giving a threatening snarl as he retracted his hands from his face. He immediately reached for Falchion, only to find his precious sword missing. "There's no need to be hostile, now, Prince," the stalker hissed, one leather-gloved hand coming out of his thick green cloak. "I'm not going to hurt you… No, your body is too precious a tool. It's just what I need."

As the dramatic music got louder, Marth found himself bound in the dark stranger's power. A green aura surrounded him and lifted him from the floor, rendering him helpless to flee. Prowler didn't paralyze him, though; rather, he enjoyed watching Marth struggle. "What do you want with me!? I don't even know you!!" Marth yelped, fear evident in his eyes. The shadow grinned, withdrawing his hand into his cloak. "You may call me Tomoyuki… Though 'Master' will soon be more fitting."

Lifting his head now, the shadow left Tomoyuki's face, and Marth could get a better look at the man's eyes. Clear oculars were pale and almost transparent, green hues putting Marth in a bit of a trance. His other hand – or lack thereof – was drawn from his cloak. Indeed, the man had no right hand, just a clothbound wrist that he almost lovingly stroked against Marth's cheek. The incantation he whispered was one that made the prince's eyes pale just like his, his expression going completely blank. Marth was rendered helpless, put completely in the mage's control.

"MMMMELEE!!" announced the Master Hand over the loudspeaker. All warriors tensed and awaited the selections to be announced. The prowler-mage merely lowered his head with a smirk, taking not more than a second to fix things…

"Marth and Roy versus Bowser and Ganondorf!"

The fiery-haired swordsman groaned as he rolled out of bed, landing on his back in a sheet-tangled heap. "Always always always when I'm trying to sleep," he muttered, extricating himself from his bedding and limping to his closet. He was still a bit sore, y'know.

"Hey, Roy!" His teal-haired companion bounded in through the doorway, going to his own closet to take out his weapon. "Hurry up, woul'ja?!" "I am, I am! It's not like they can start without me." Boxers and undershirt, tunic and leggings… Roy lifted his head and was about to make conversation with his roommate, only to find him gone. "_Odd,_" he thought, "_He usually waits for me. Oh well…_"

Gearing up for the upcoming battle, the outfit was completed when the Sword of Seals rested in its sheath at Roy's tender posterior. Swordsman paid no mind to the slight pain in his backside, closing his bedroom door before strolling down the hall, alone.

Fin! Or is it?! o.o This story is going to turn out longer than I expected. Leaving characters hanging is so much more fun than just getting to the end so quickly… e.e This story probably isn't going to hold anyone's interest, though. Bah.

PS – When you review – if anyone does – I have a small question. o.o Would the audience object to a rather permanent physical "change" on one of our favorite bishounen? Not to give anything away…


	4. Chapter 4

I have very little to say about the beginning of this chapter. o.o .. Er. n.n No, I should thank you guys for your reviews!! Please, keep reading! For now, it's a chapter a day, though I'm kinda stuck on a few of the later chapters… That's alright, I'll straighten it out. 

Geh. If there's one thing I hate, it's describing Melee battles. e.e I'll make it as painless as I can.

As the sparkles and stars faded around him, the fire-swordsman dropped from his platform and onto the fighting arena. The Fountain of Dreams was the ideal place for a risky, small-area battle, provided one wouldn't have a seizure from all those fluorescent colors. The tiny setting made Roy a bit uneasy, though. Two massive heavyweights against him and Marth? It was practically suicide! The pair had gotten out of a few tight spots in their time, though, and Roy remained confident as he taunted his opponents.

Marth and Roy got to work immediately, slicing away at their heavy opponents with merciless savagery. Inside the House, all were friends, but out on the battlefield, it was "kill or be killed." Out here, the Smashers would become possessed by mortal demons, the ones who verily gave them life, and would basically kick the shit out of each other. But normally, in team battles, those on the same team supported and helped each other, backing each other up when things looked nasty. Thus, Roy went fearlessly to battle, sure that Marth – of all people – wouldn't abandon him when he needed it.

At 178% damage, miraculously, the red-haired youth was still fearlessly going at it. With Bowser literally teetering on the edge between victory and oblivion, Roy was putting all his energies into keeping the overgrown reptile offstage. That's why he didn't flinch when he felt the rumble of Ganondorf's footsteps behind him. He knew that Marth was still on the field and that his Altean ally would surely defend him. Assuming his most threatening position and closing his eyes, Roy began to charge up his deadliest attack. 

It wasn't until he heard the Gerudo's grunt close by that he opened one eye to glance behind him. Ganondorf towered over Roy, intently grinning down upon the swordsman as his right fist began to burn with purple flame. As Roy struggled to keep his concentration, he looked right through Ganondorf to see Marth on his other side, nonchalantly brushing back his bangs. The prince was standing there, making no move to defend his friend. When the Altean lowered his hand, though, he looked directly at Roy, and the smile on his lips was somewhat sickening. The pale glint in his eyes made Roy's stomach turn in knots, and the shocking nausea made the swordsman abruptly released his pent-up attack. Lucky for him, his timing was right, and Bowser was sent crashing into oblivion. However, Roy couldn't recover from the attack in time, and a heavy purple fist crashed into his back, sending him to his own fate.

When he fell back into reality, Roy landed in a heap on the floor. He stayed in that crumpled position for a few minutes, angrily growling, "What the hell…?" Swordsman brushed away the concerned Dr. Mario and struggled to his feet, hobbling over to the control panel. On the Dream Fountains field monitor, Roy watched Marth fight the Gerudo as he normally did, his graceful Sword Dance administering 16% o 20% damage with each hit. The white-coated doctor quietly crept up beside Roy, looking him over for any major wounds. "You're lucky it wasn't Stamina Mode, or you'd be in pieces all over that fountain," doctor morosely commented. "Say, what happened out there, anyway?" His words drew Roy's eyes downward. "Marth was just standing there watching while you got creamed. Didn't you notice?" 

The swordsman said nothing, lifting his eyes to the screen in time to watch Marth deliver a final, punishing blow to his opponent; Ganondorf was annihilated in a flurry of stardust. The pre-recorded victory poses were played, and Marth and Ganondorf rejoined the House as friends again. "Good game!" the Gerudo pleasantly grunted, vigorously shaking Marth's hand. Roy was given a similar congratulating, though the warrior didn't notice it. Instead, he brushed past Ganondorf to pull Marth aside.

"What was going on out there?!" Roy hissed, his hostility taking the Altean by surprise. "You could have got- No, you _did_ get me killed!" Marth looked stunned for a moment. "What, Roy?" he scoffed, "It isn't my fault you got smeared. I couldn't do anything about it, I was stuck." Roy skeptically narrowed his eyes, but the haughty prince went on to say, "Oh, don't whine about it. You're slow, I can't help that. You know I can't hold your hand out there forever."

Looking as though he'd just been slapped across the face, the insulted swordsman watched silently as Marth clunked out of the room. Roy just stood in stunned silence. Tough he could be a bit moody at times, Marth was normally so kindhearted, reserved, and more than willing to help. The comments were especially caustic, coming from him. That wasn't what bothered Roy right now, though. It was funny, but he could have sworn he'd heard that phrase, that tone of voice from someone else before…

Dr. Mario sat back in his chair, watching the three other battles that were going on. He thought that Marth and Roy were just having a short disagreement. This just proved that the other warriors of the Melee House were unaware as to just what was happening behind Marth's eyes.

Eh. e.e It turned out okay, I guess. I think it could stand to be a little more dramatic, but .. Review! o.o Please! x.x; Or else I'll get disheartened!


	5. Chapter 5

UUUGH. WHAT AN UNINTERESTING CHAPTER.

e.e I write so slow when the chapters are uninteresting. Thus, this is a day late. Just boring foreshadowing. Feh. 

It does skip some time, too. Be warned.

Roy chose not hang around his dorm room much that day, not after the events of that morning. It was hard to find a place to be alone in the Melee House, so the swordsman had to settle for a couch in the relatively quiet House library. Stretched out across the three cushions, he pretended to be reading one of the thick leather-bound books he found there, but his mind was constantly wandering from the neatly-printed pages of the ancient book.

"_I just don't understand what happened out there_," Roy thought to himself, arched brows drawn down over those crystal eyes. He was thoroughly disturbed by the abrupt attitude adjustment in his friend. The pervious night, Roy was being covered in affections, but the following morning, Marth betrayed and even snapped at him! But the sting of Marth's words and actions was only half of Roy's worry. The swordsman was accustomed to the affectionate feelings he'd begun to harbor for his roommate, and he was equally used to what minor hurts Marth occasionally inflicted upon him. Though…

Roy was more used to having Marth being very selfless and heroic around him, to the extent that he went a little overboard most times. More often than not, Roy would be perfectly capable of countering an attack only to find himself behind a human shield. The blue-haired prince's stupid stunts such as these frequently got him instantly KO'd, and even though Roy usually yelled at him for it, fiery swordsman was grateful for the care his friend displayed.

Roy sighed, idly turning a page in his unread book. "_It's so strange, though, that he said that to me. I wouldn't mind that he didn't step in, but he didn't have to make such rude comments… 'I can't hold your hand forever.' Where have I heard that before?…_" 

The thought of hands made Roy uneasy for some reason, and the swordsman sighed as he laid the book down on his chest. Lavender eyes turned their attention to his company, the psi Pokemon, who had pried his attention from his own book and was currently staring right back at Roy. "Something bothering you?" Though his lips didn't move (sheez, does he even have lips?), Mewtwo's voice clearly echoed off the walls of Roy's mind. Roy sighed, sitting up. "Not at all, why do you ask?" "Well, I saw Marth before, and he was acting just as strangely as you are," he commented. "I didn't know you could read." "Hnf, thanks for the vote of confidence… Nothing's bothering me, Mewtwo." Roy stood, not willing to let his mind be pried just now, and his book was laid on the couch as he exited.

Mewtwo sighed, glancing at the cover of El Mucacho de la Mancha: Don Quixote. "What I meant to say is that I didn't know he knew how to read Spanish…"

--

Ph33r the power of stupid people in large groups.

Most Smashers avoided Peach and Daisy's dorm on slow Saturday nights, mostly because of the noxious fumes wafting from behind that heart-shaped door. When shut in – as they were while the House was on lockdown – the pair amused themselves with trivial, girly things: nail polish, curlers, mud masks and gossip. The pair was currently curled up on Daisy's yellow comforter, both in their pajamas as they indulged in pink polish and girl-talk.

"So when Nana asked me about the color of her new parka, I had to be honest!" Daisy went on, carelessly waving her hand in the air. "I told her that the gray just made her look deathly pale." Peach nodded in approval of her friend's fashion sense. "I'm sure that if we weren't here, the entire House would look just awful!" she squeaked, blowing on her wet nails. The sagacious pair had made such costume suggestions as Samus's pink armor, Fox's pink boots, and Captain Falcon's pink and white outfit. How, erm, charming.

"So anyways," Daisy continued to gossip, "Have you heard about Marth and Roy?" The names caused Peach to lift her eyes from her nails. "What, have they taken our costume suggestions yet?" "Well, no," the brunette grinned as she lowered her voice, "but I've heard that they've been having a few 'disagreements' ever since that one Melee. I heard that those two were having a _screaming match _out in the guys' hallway the one day! Roy is pretty upset that Marth's starting to turn his nose up." "I guess Marth's finally figured out he's too good for Roy!" Peach giggled. "I heard it's so bad between them that Roy's been sleeping out on the couch in the library!" "Have you seen him out there?" Daisy asked, incredulous. "Well, no, but Jigglypuff has! An-"

"STAMINA!" Peach's words were interrupted by the loudspeaker. The pair was silent, setting aside their polishes as they intently waited for the choices to be announced.

"Marth versus Roy!"

Peach and Daisy exchanged an excited glance as slow smiles broke out across their faces. This was one battle they had to watch!

Ugh. The end of this chapter is terrible, it's so rushed. XD I'm so right about the pink outfits though, aren't I?

And for the Spanish impaired, I **think **that the title of the book he's reading is "The Man of La Mancha: Don Quixote." e.e It's a real book, not sure if that's the Spanish title…


	6. Chapter 6

Feh. I hate this chapter. e.e It jumps around, it's rushed, and it could be a lot more dramatic. I have a speech, a handful of essays, and some sentences to write this weekend, though. So, yeah. On with the chapter.

Roy couldn't help but shiver as he was introduced to the chilly atmosphere of the Hyrule Temple. This place was always frigid, largely because of its high altitude, and the swordsman's lack of sleeves did little to shield him from the crisp breeze that blew through the ruins. He stood near the overhang on the western end of the stage, tensing as soon as he heard the word "GO!" This fight was going to be a tough one. Marth presently alighted on the island on the eastern side of the stage, approaching Roy with a sickening smile on his face.

Dr. Mario, who was monitoring this fight as he did all others, was surprised to find that he had company. When he carelessly turned his eyes up from the field monitors, he was shocked to find Daisy and Peach hanging over him. Both girls were staring at the Hyrule Temple monitor. "Oh, this is going to be great!" "I know! Too bad I didn't bring popcorn…" "Ladies, ladies!" he cried, hopping out of his chair to usher the two gossips out of the room. "Please, this is a medical facility, not a TV room!"

As soon as they came together, Marth and Roy began to clash at the blades. Almost every swipe Roy took was met with a soft *ping* and an eruption of turquoise sparks. "Marth" knew his opponent so well that he could perfectly calculate and deflect Roy's every attack. "_He's fighting strangely, though,_" Roy thought as he deftly rolled away from his adversary. "_He's not moving around as much as he usually does. There's something very methodical about his moves…_"

"Aww, please let us stay, Mario!" Daisy whined, digging her heels into the floor as she was pushed along. "Yeah, Doctor! It'd be so sa-_weet_ of you if you'd let us watch just this one battle!" Peach chimed in. The doctor was firm, though, as he struggled to get the girls out. "You can watch it tomorrow morning in the TV room, but right now, I need you out of here!"

One of the downsides to Stamina Battles was that they weren't as docile as Melees. Melees were won by kicking your opponent off the screen; Stamina Battles were won by working your opponent's HP down to 0% - or, bluntly, by killing them. Typically, in Melees – though no blood was shown on screen – there were some cuts and bruises taken by the fighters. That's what fighting is all about. However, Stamina Mode was much more violent and grotesque behind the screen than Melee was. The cuts were deeper, the bruises were darker, and the kills were very real. You weren't safe, especially not from those you call friends.

Marth and Roy had always been a very equal match, and both were worked down to 20% HP in no time. One smash would make it anyone's victory. Roy had struggled to get Marth's HP percentile down that far. Where the Altean prince hit hardest with the tip of his sword, Roy needed to use the middle of the blade, thus delivering himself right into the arms of his challenger. In addition, to approach Marth from the front-side or above was, basically, suicide. Roy had tried his hardest to catch the Altean off guard while still keeping his own ass in the game.

The white-coated Mario whimpered as he cowered between the two angry, vegetable-wielding princesses. "All right, all right! You can stay, but just for a few minutes! You're really not supposed to be in here, I have work to d-" "Thank you so much, Doctor!" both girls chirped, discarding their turnips and kissing him on either cheek. They hurried back to the monitors and pulled up some chairs for themselves, crowding the Hyrule Temple screen. Though, after some few minutes of watching, Daisy loudly sighed. "Y'know, I am kinda hungry. Aren't you, Peach?" "Yeah," the blonde wistfully commented, "And these chairs are really uncomfortable. I could use a cushion or two." The good doctor sighed, giving in to his duties, hanging his head as he trudged out of the Monitoring Room. "I'll be right back…"

With half of his regal cape sheared off, his messy hair even worse than usual, and a deep, painful wound in his stomach, Roy paused to catch his breath as he put up his super shield. He and Marth were on the lower level of the temple now, with Roy just hanging onto the edge of the small space. Cowering behind his transparent bubble, the swordsman sneered out at his former friend. Marth was hardly daunted by any of Roy's attacks. It was strange that, even as he was at 20% HP, he showed few signs of tiring and even fewer open wounds. Roy could swear that whenever he'd made an exceptionally heavy hit, the laceration his blade left behind just closed itself back up. And that glint in Marth's eyes … Why were his eyes so pale?

Twirling his sword in his hand, Marth lifted and lowered it in the fencing style, grinning to his opponent. His taunt didn't have its usual fluent flow of Japanese, but rather, he challenged Roy. "Come on now, boy," he snarled, "Don't be a baby. Let's end this now, shall we?" And the Altean dropped into a ready stance. He wanted a classic Swordsmen's Showdown, a running start to the final blow. 

As the shield began to uncover his face, Roy swallowed the lump of nervousness in his throat. This type of fighting always made him so sick inside. He never got it right when he was training. He always swung blindly, too preoccupied with dodging and running to aim. He always missed his mark.

Especially when …

After they'd had one bite of popcorn, Peach and Daisy exchanged a look of disapproval, then turned their gazes down to the doctor. He cowered a bit. "What?!" "This isn't fat free, is it?" "I couldn't find that box! This is all we have!" Mario looked exasperated as the monarchs disappointedly pushed the overflowing bowl aside. "The fatty kind always makes me thirsty…" "Yeah! Oh, I could go for a nice Dragonfruit right about now…" Dr. Mario huffed again, his chivalry binding him to the princesses' every whim. Traipsing out of the room again, he was now in search of fluids.

The brief hiatus was over as Roy dropped his shield and crouched low to the ground, in the same position as Marth was. Synchronized by that silent bond they shared, they started simultaneously. The two warriors ran head-on towards each other, the distance between them shortening by the second, and at the very last minute, both dodged and went right past each other. The swift swipes of their swords left vivid blurs after the blades, blue over red.

Skidding to a halt a few feet later, Roy winced, the deep cut sliced in his side causing him to fall to one knee, dropping the Sword of Seals. He wasn't finished yet, though, having 5% of his strength left. Just five percent…

His lavender oculars turned down, now, to the fallen sword. There was a vivid red stain on the dirty blade, and Roy could hear his companion whimpering behind him. "My hand, my hand! You son of a bitch, look what you've done to my hand!!" Fiery-haired swordsman felt nausea rising in his throat, and he leaned forward, closing his eyes tightly. "Gods, no," he whispered, swallowing the disgusting feeling. "Good gods, no… Not again." 

"My, you've kept that bad habit, haven't you?" The new voice startled Roy, but he couldn't bring himself to lift his head. He was too weak and too sick… But he needn't worry about lifting his head himself. A cold hand graced the underside of Roy's chin, and his gaze was lifted to meet the pale green eyes of Marth's captor. 

"Tomoyuki…"

The prowler-mage grinned, lowering his hand from Roy's face and standing straight again. He loomed over the swordsman, his deformities hidden behind his big black cloak. "When this is all over, you needn't worry about hurting your dear friend like this ever again. No, I'll take very good care of him for you, I promise." Roy didn't have time to react to the threat, because then Tomoyuki smiled, closing his eyes as Roy's body was slowly turned around to face Marth again. Teal-haired tiara-boy was enraged, shuddering violently as he struggled to support his sword in his left hand, his right now completely severed. Such a sight wasn't uncommon to Stamina Battles, nor was it permanent, but it twisted Roy's stomach horribly. He knew that sometimes, such wounds were permanent.

"My gods, Marth," Roy choked out as he watched Falchion hovering above his face, "I'm sorry." But his apology wasn't well-received. All he could do was give a dull grunt of pain as the blade-end met his face, and the fiery-haired swordsman was put out of his misery. 

Bah. o.o I'm kinda unhappy with that. Could have been much more dramatic. So much jumping around, too … e.e I don't know when I'll get to do the next chapter, so please bear with me. But review to bug me to get to it soon!


	7. Chapter 7

Bah. Kriz hasn't updated in a while! ;.; I had such a bad night that I felt like tormenting Marth and Roy, though, so.. Here.

As he stumbled off of the Melee House grounds, Roy was still pulling gauze and surgical tape from his face. Doctor Mario called after him, "Wait! You're not stable yet, you can't leave here!! Stop right there, Roy! Come back here and wait until you're healed!" The swordsman wasn't listening to his doctor, though. He hobbled off the Melee grounds just as the gates closed, and he limped off into the city.

Roy had sustained minor damage from the fight, only a slice across his face and two lacerations across his midsection. He was more concerned for the welfare of his friend than for himself. Marth's previously severed hand would be regenerated as soon as he reentered reality, so Roy wasn't afraid for the prince's physical condition. But when the warrior awoke, the doctor told him that Marth had left. "He said he was going out just for a while… Said he'd be back," the Dr. Mario had murmured while changing Roy's bandages. That was more than enough to set the warrior off. Roy had struggled out of bed, changed into his armor, and was now tearing down the street like a madman, frightening people off with his unsheathed sword.

Roy was so unused to real combat that even his insignificant flesh wounds slowed him down. He was panting heavily as he came to a halt on the corner, leaning against the lamppost and holding his stomach. He could feel the dampness in his bandages; he was bleeding right through them. His armor felt heavier than usual, and his sword was oppressively weighing down his arm. "_I have to keep going_," he pressed himself, "_I have to get to Marth before Tomoyuki hurts him_."

"_Or worse…_"

--

Marth groaned as consciousness roused his brain from its slumber. He wasn't exactly a morning person, and Roy would readily second that. He didn't actually wake up until after a hot morning shower… Mmm, shower, just what his battle-worn body needed. Marth smiled, his eyes still closed, and he now lifted his head and attempted to move.

His attempts were met with failure. The Altean groaned, now opening his eyes to find himself in a rather peculiar position. He was being forced to kneel before what looked like a cloth ottoman, his wrists chained to the piece of furniture. When he tried to move his legs to stand up, he'd find his ankles fastened to the floor. His body was achy and his clothes were dirty and tattered. His armor and weapon, however, were nowhere to be found. 

"Ah, so you're awake…" The Altean prince lifted his eyes, startled to find someone before him. Tomoyuki was all decked out in his ebony robes, his white hair flowing far past his shoulders. He loomed over Marth with a threatening weapon in his hand. Cerulean eyes were drawn to the strange device… A black iron shaft that held on its end a curved blade, sharpened to a surgically precise point.

Tomoyuki grinned as he saw Marth eyeing up the weapon, and he leaned down into the prince's face. "Yes, dear boy, I'm not someone who fights with swords. I used to be right-handed, you see, and my left can't support the weight of a blade like your own. I chose to wield this sickle instead." Marth's brows knitted as he looked up to Tomoyuki, his gaze stern. "You… _Used to be _right-handed?" Tomoyuki stood straight again as his other arm was produced from behind his cloak. Marth looked at it strangely, not realizing at first that it was an arm, since it didn't have a hand at the end.

"I used to be right-handed, yes," Tomoyuki gloated as he took a slow pace around the detained Marth. "Ah, yes, back in the day when I was in training. I remember it so well… I, like your friend Roy, was one of the sons of the Principality of Pharae. Of course, in those days, the most coveted prize for us was the Sword of Seals, the most-powerful enchanted blade in the kingdom. I was the ideal candidate for its ownership, but there was just one boy who opposed me, only one who could match my skill."

Marth swallowed hard. He had the sick feeling that he knew where this was going... Time and time again, Roy woke him up by whimpering in his sleep. Fiery-haired warrior would say nothing about it the next morning, though. Marth knew that Roy had a very guilty conscience, he just didn't know why.

Tomoyuki went on, "He and I were going to have the final battle for our prize. We were in front of all the nobles of the land, having a genial sparring match before we got into the real sword fight. He always liked to put on a show for the audience, so he insisted that we get a running start at each other." Tomoyuki stood next to Marth, crouching a bit to imitate the stance. "It was glorious… Two young, skilled warriors going for a head-on clash, blade-to-blade, man-to-man." He ran out across the dimly lit room and, in a flourish of his deformed arm, demonstrated the slice he'd taken. "It was where the fight was going to begin, and that's just where it ended."

"… He cut off your hand," Marth stammered. He looked horrified. "H-he slipped and … Cut off your hand." Such a thing was considered cowardly by any swordsman. To render one's enemy helpless before getting into battle was unheard of! Tomoyuki turned to Marth, shaking in anger. "He didn't slip!" he snarled, "He did it purposely! I would have won that match if he didn't sever my hand!" One would think the prowler-mage was about to burst into tears the way he was getting so emotional. "He, of course, won the sword, and I was reduced to nothing. Nothing! Just a lowly stable-boy, a mangled peddler, a useless apprentice."

"But what do you want with me?!" Marth whimpered, tugging on his chains. "I haven't done a thi-" He stopped short, his eyes widening in terror as he saw that sickle-blade lingering over his own chained hands. "You, dear Prince," Tomoyuki grinned, "Are going to be my revenge."

Bah. Short chapter. I hate it. o.o Better stuff comes in the next one, yes yes.


	8. Chapter 8

Whee! n.n As promised, a new chapter. I like this one, I'm such a weirdo. There's only a few more chapters to come, kids, then probably a second part. o.o How scary. Review to yell at me for what I've done!  
  
  
  
No one had known Tomoyuki better than Roy had. The warrior and the mage were like night and day, and everyone always says that opposites attract. While in training, the pair shared a room, and thus spent most of their time together. They ate, slept, trained, studied, and played together. However, Roy did things for fun, while Tomoyuki was businesslike even about his play. Where the redhead loved to impress the crowd, the blonde was always in any show for the money or the prize.  
  
"My hand, my hand! You cut off my hand!!"  
  
After Roy gained ownership of the Sword of Seals, he heard little from Tomoyuki. Roy was all wrapped up in his political studies, but he would occasionally catch word that Tomoyuki was working at some noble's stable or apprenticed to a local blacksmith. Last he'd heard, Tomoyuki was apprenticed to one of the wizards who lived on the outskirts of the kingdom. Judging by the long black robes and the ability to possess, Roy assumed that his former friend was indeed still a mage and probably still residing in his master's quarters.  
  
The swordsman had struggled along for hours until he came to the gloomy mansion that was Tomoyuki's new home. Gotta love the suburbs, right? He plodded up the gloomy gray walkway and clunked up the long staircase to the front door. Growling, he took a hold of the brass knocker and tore it right off the wooden door, splintering a weak spot in the postern. There was no more need for finesse. The closest thing Roy had to a lover had been stolen.  
  
Frankly, this was war.  
  
--  
  
"Your revenge?!" Marth practically squeaked as he struggled against his bonds. He was about to faint from horror. "I've had no part in this, though! I didn't even know Roy back then, and I certainly didn't know you! This isn't my fight, I shouldn't be a casualty! Please, not my hands, I need them!" Tomoyuki sadistically grinned, lifting his blade higher. "I know."  
  
He was about to bring the lethal weapon down on Marth's wrists when he heard a cracking sound outside the room's door. "Oh my!" he grinned, "It sounds like our company is here! Sit right here, your highness, and I'll bring him right in!" Tomoyuki glided to the door in a fit of ecstasy; Roy was right on time! The mage opened the chamber door to let just a small shaft of light inside the black room, and he swiftly exited.  
  
After slicing the big oaken doors right off their hinges, Roy had stormed into the main hall of the mansion. He was wheezing and growling, clutching his stomach tightly. His wounds were aching, and that only served to make him more irate. Thus, when he set his lavender gaze on Tomoyuki, it appeared to the latter that his oculars were more crimson than purple. "So nice to see you again, old friend!" the mage grinned, descending his main staircase. His personage seemed to blend right in with the house; his hair all white, his robes so black, his pigmentation so gray-toned that it admixed right in with the dark, drab drapery of the chateau. Roy, however, stuck out like a sore thumb in this atmosphere, his blue and silver armor clashing with all the blackness.  
  
The towheaded swordsman growled, hardly able to contain his pain and his anger as he approached Tomoyuki. "Where is he?" he snarled. "Where did you take Marth?!" Tomoyuki sighed boredly. "Oh, that prince? He was no fun at all! Hardly put up a struggle towards the end." He idly examined the blade of his weapon. "Just that hopeless moaning and whimpering, so typical of a pansy." The mage lifted his eyes and had to quickly duck under Roy's swift swing. "I'll murder you!"  
  
Marth perked as he heard voices and the sound of clashing blades just outside the door. Roy had come for him! But would he be successful in defeating Tomoyuki? As the door to his lonely chamber gradually opened, Marth saw nothing but Tomoyuki's backside and the flash of blades in front of him. Tomoyuki was being backed into the room, so Roy must be winning! But Tomoyuki was backing up all the way across the room, very far. Very close to Marth.  
  
Roy was enraged, violently attempting to tear Tomoyuki's weapon away from him. "I'll kill you for what you did to him!" he cried, jabbing and slashing and aiming straight for his head - for Tomoyuki didn't have a heart. With one powerful slash, he ripped Tomoyuki's scythe away from him, sending it sliding across the floor, and Roy grinned as he lifted the fiery Sword of Seals over his head. "It's over, Tomoyuki," he snarled as he brought his blade downward.  
  
Roy had forgotten one thing about Tomoyuki, however. Thus, he was unprepared when the mage vanished from his spot. Roy mercilessly slammed his sword down until the blade met whatever was unfortunate enough to be below it.  
  
Only afterwards did he notice.  
  
Roy was surprised, even happy to see that Marth was alive, was even in the same room with him. His eyes lit up as they caught sight of Marth's face. The redheaded warrior was elated. "Marth, you're alive! From what Tomoyuki said, I thought you'd been- ." Roy stopped short, for Marth didn't seem too happy to see him. The Altean's crystalline eyes were wide and watering, his complexion was deathly pale, and he was just starting to tremble. "Marth?" Roy questioned his friend, "What's wrong?" The swordsman slowly followed his friend's downcast gaze.  
  
Marth's left hand was still chained to the ottoman, fastened by a cold steel binding that hugged his arm just below the wrist. His right hand, however, lay limp and lifeless on the upholstery, separated from his arm by the bloodied blade of the Sword of Seals.  
  
Roy had cleanly severed Marth's hand.  
  
  
  
Violent, ne? Just a short note, here: No, Roy didn't sever Tomoyuki's hand intentionally. o.o Maybe I didn't make that very clear. He just slipped. But maybe it was one of those subconscious things . Another note! I'm saving the yaoi-ness for a pure Lemon story, coming soon to a monitor near you! n.n 


	9. Final

Well, I have no idea where my page went. "User does not exist"? I EXIST!! Stupid page… Here's the end to the story nobody likes. Oh, but it's not over, not yet. 

Roy had never really fallen asleep, but he felt as if, just now, he was waking up. His bright purple gaze had dulled to a miserable, melancholy stare. He felt like ass, and probably didn't look much better. Despite his wounds and his exhaustion, he wouldn't let Dr. Mario come near him with bandages or needles. No, he was content to stay close at Marth's side, dreading the moment that his dear friend and lover would awaken.

Roy remembered little about how he got back to the Melee house. The good doctor reminded him, though, that he had carried Marth all the way home from "wherever you two were." Unfortunately, Dr. Mario was completely unprepared to deal with a severed limb, especially something so delicate and intricate as a human hand. "I'm sorry, Roy, but there's little I can do for him," he had grimly reported. "The hand is just dead. Even if I reattach it, he won't have feeling in it or control over it. He'll probably be better off without it."

Marth hadn't woken up since he passed out on the way home, and Dr. Mario said that he probably wouldn't wake up for several more hours. Roy was glad, though; he didn't want Marth to wake up. He knew that his friend would be mad at him, would hate him, for what he'd done – even if it was just a horrible accident.

Roy was dirty and sweaty and bloody from all his battles and struggles. He was just a complete mess, but he didn't care… He was content to stay by Marth's side, holding and stroking his left hand while just staring at what used to be his right. The drone of the monitors around him had long numbed his mind, and he noted little more than Marth's soft breathing.

"I'm sorry, Marth," Roy whispered for the hundredth time that evening. "I'm so… So sorry…" He wasn't sorry only because of Marth's handicap, but also because, well…

Tomoyuki was still alive.

****

-End Part One-


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